


Food Crimes

by Quinnoid



Series: Kitchen Crimes [1]
Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Alcohol, Also bumped the rating up to teen bc of ch3 and 5, Anxiety, Awful Awful Crimes, Cel typical chaos, Fluff, Gen, Nausea description, Smoking, Zolf typical angst, ask to tag, ch7: Oops! All Fluff!, just in case?, oneshots, read chapter notes for specific content warnings please!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:15:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26063320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quinnoid/pseuds/Quinnoid
Summary: Various characters (read: mostly Cel) commit food crimes to everyone's dismay!Ch8: Zolf watches Grizzop make a very efficient grilled cheese sandwich.
Relationships: Celiquillithon "Cel" Sidebottom & Zolf Smith, Celiquillithon "Cel" Sidebottom/Zolf Smith, Grizzop drik Acht Amsterdam & Sasha Racket, Grizzop drik Acht Amsterdam & Zolf Smith
Series: Kitchen Crimes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1965562
Comments: 66
Kudos: 52





	1. Dragonfire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know that tumblr post about capsaicin and menthol? Yeah. Mistake.
> 
> Prefacing this with I did this *twice* and did not learn my lesson either time.

“Hey Mr. Smith!” Cel said brightly from the kitchen door.

  
“Afternoon,” Zolf replied, glancing up from his chopping to see them intensely surveying the room. “What can I do you for?”

“Have you got any mint?”

“Mint? Sure. How much do you need?” Zolf asked. He set his knife down and swept a pile of chopped scallions into a large pot.   
  


“Oh! Really?” Cel’s eyes went wide, and they jumped towards his workbench. “How much can I take?” 

Zolf turned and opened a cabinet with herbs and tea leaves and started rifling through it for the small bag of mint leaves. “No one’s wanted any, so take what you want. Here you go. What do you need it for?” He grabbed his knife and began slicing cured meat into thin strips.

“Oh, I’m so glad you asked!” Zolf looked at Cel, grinning widely, and noticed they had that terrifyingly excited gleam in their eyes that screamed ‘mad alchemist about to try to explode something’. They continued speaking rapidly, almost too fast for Zolf to even keep up. “See, I’m running an experiment on the properties of peppers and mint on the tongue. There’s a compound, or maybe two, I’m not sure yet, in peppers that activates the sensors in your mouth for heat, and there’s a few compounds in mint that I think activates the same sensors and make you feel cold. If I’m right, then the compounds should be inactivated by each other as they combine on the sensors at the same time!”

“Wait.. What?” Zolf asked, setting his knife down.

“Oh sorry! So, peppers make your mouth feel hot, right? And mint makes your mouth feel cold. Well, if you combine them, they should cancel each other out!” They held up the mint leaves and a small, red pepper triumphantly. “I’ve got these peppers from the America’s that I’ve been growing, and they should be spicy enough. I think. Someone should really develop a spicy scale..”

Their words finally clicked together and he realized what they were trying to test. And how badly it would go. “Hold on, wait, Cel. That’s not how the mouth works!” Zolf exclaimed. “You’re just going to get burnt.”

“Oh. How do you know?” They asked.

“I-I just..” Zolf frowned. “I just know!” For a moment, he thought he might’ve gotten through to them. Cel’s smile vanished and they gave him a quizzical look, head cocked to one side. Zolf’s focus flicked to their burnt ear, then back on that painfully serious look they so rarely wore. 

“Ah, look, Mr. Smith, science, alchemy, they need experiments, y’know? Repeat trials, evidence, theories and hypotheses and research. Who’s to say the compounds in a mint leaf and a pepper don’t neutralize each other until someone tries it?” Cel shrugged and grabbed a knife from Zolf’s block before he could stop them. With practiced ease, they carved the top of the pepper off and sniffed. “Would you like to test it with me? It’d be helpful to have a second set of senses.”

“Uh, no. Not particularly.” Zolf looked down and sighed. “Look, will you at least do it here? That way I can heal you if something goes wrong?”

“Wrong?” Cel laughed. “It’s just peppers and mint, Zolf!”

“Fine.” Zolf grumbled, snatching his knife up and taking extra care to slice the meat evenly. “Just.. take the milk with you.”

Cel’s laugh died away, and they leaned over the counter, just inside his peripheral vision. They were smiling softly. “Mr. Smith?”

Zolf grunted.

“Thank you.” Their smile faltered for a moment, so fleeting Zolf wasn’t sure it even happened. “Thank you for caring. And.. and for making sure I’m safe. I appreciate it. Having someone watch my back. It’s been.. It’s been a long time, and I appreciate it.”

“Yeah.” Zolf said. He pointedly didn’t think of the last person he was supposed to be caring about. The last person he was supposed to keep safe. The last person whose back he was supposed to watch. “You’re welcome, Cel.” They smiled, hopped up on the counter, and began rambling about the experiment. Zolf finished preparing the different ingredients for the stew and listened as they explained the experiment and their hypothesis in way more depth than he could hope to understand.

“For the best effect, I should extract the minty compounds from the leaves, but that would take a lot of time. If.. well, when we get back to Japan, I can spend a day or so verifying these results with the extract. For now, I think just chewing a few of these will work.” Cel opened the bag and pulled a few out, inspecting them closely. They separated the leaves into two small piles and offered the remaining leaf to Zolf. “Mint?”

Zolf shook his head and leaned back against the other counter to watch them. “No thanks. Never been much of a fan.”

“Ah. More for me then!” They grabbed the first set of leaves and started chewing them. “I’ve always loved mint. Not sure how it's going to taste with peppers though.”

Carefully, Cel grabbed the pepper and the knife and carved it in half. After regarding the small pepper for a moment, they popped it in their mouth. The second Cel bit down, their eyes went wide and then they grimaced, shaking their head violently. Zolf lunged forward, but they threw their hand up. He stopped and watched as they swallowed, their face still screwed into that painful scowl.

“Bloody dragonfire!” Cel gasped, followed by a string of utterly vile curses and swearing, only some of which Zolf had ever heard before. They jumped off the countertop and began pacing and clenching their fists. He shook his head and ran to grab a bottle of milk from the refrigeration unit Cel had installed into the kitchen. 

“Cel.” Zolf held out the bottle when Cel looked over, eyes and nose streaming, and they took it and chugged it faster than they’d ever drunk any potion. Zolf was pretty sure they were somehow still swearing as they drank. 

“That was like drinking.. Alchemist fire on accident. Always properly label potions.” Cel panted when they finished the milk. “Hamid could’ve breathed fire.. on my tongue.. and it wouldn’t have been as hot as those.. Those compounds combined.”

Zolf rolled his eyes and chuckled quietly. “I told ya it was gonna hurt.” 

Cel shot him a wounded look as they pulled a small towel from a coat pocket and wiped their eyes. With a slightly shaky hand, they jotted some notes down in a small notebook before looking back at Zolf. “D’you wanna try?”

“Oh no! I’m good.” Zolf held his hands up and laughed again. “We don’t have enough milk for me to try that.”

Cel took a deep breath and shook their head again. “Do we maybe have enough for me to try again?” They looked down at Zolf hopefully. “Repeat trials and all, you know?”

“Uh, no! Cel, you’re not doing that again.” Zolf glared at them. “I don’t mind you mucking around and trying it once, well, I do, but no! I’m not letting you put yourself at risk for this.. Experiment. It’s not worth it! It’s not worth you getting hurt!”

For a moment, Cel looked like they were going to argue. They sighed and smiled crookedly. “Y’know, none of my lab assistants have ever stopped me. None of my teachers either.” Cel gathered the second pile of mint leaves up and slipped them back in the bag. “Thanks for having my back, Zolf.”

They coughed and winced. 

“D’you need me to heal you?”

“Maybe?”


	2. Monster Eggs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awful crimes here. Modern setting. Cel makes truly criminal scrambled eggs and Zolf is both horrified and amused.

When Zolf opened the door to his apartment on a cool Friday evening, he expected to find a quiet, possibly even empty house. Cel often worked late, and it was early enough that they were most likely still at the college, guiding students through labs. Zolf expected to find an empty kitchen where he could cook dinner for himself and Cel and destress from his long day. Zolf did not expect Cel to be home, much less for them to be cooking already. And he definitely did not expect the absolute disaster of a meal they were making.

When Zolf opened the door to his apartment, the smell hit him first. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but it stung his nose just slightly, like finely chopped onions or a fizzy drink that’s just been poured. “Uh, Cel?”

“Oh, hey Zolf!” Cel called. “I’m in the kitchen!”

Zolf was slightly wary of what he was walking into, considering what he knew about Cel and their kitchen experience, despite them having a PhD in organic chemistry. In all honesty, having the degree might have made it worse, because it gave them the knowledge to commit willfully unspeakable atrocities to food, like the time they stirred rice in a crockpot for over an hour. It turned into an awful, half raw, oatmeal-y mess that neither of them could stomach. Zolf had almost convinced them to never try it again, but a week later, they bought another pound of rice and remade it. They spouted something about repeat trials and confirming results and Zolf resigned himself to ordering takeout that night.

With a quiet sigh, Zolf walked into the kitchen and stopped, surveying the little room. The kitchen was surprisingly clean for a Food Experiment (not Food Crime, Zolf), as they had taken to calling them. The little table was clean, aside from two open energy drinks and some paperwork, and the counters were tidy. Cel stood in front of a saucepan on the stove, another open energy drink and the carton of eggs nearby, slowly stirring.

“Evenin’. What’re you making?” Zolf asked. Cel shot him a grin over their shoulder and turned back to the pan.

“Dinner! Sorry, I meant to shoot you a text, but I completely forgot. You’re probably not going to want this, but I tried to keep everything clean so you could make dinner whenever you were ready, because I didn’t want a repeat of the night I tried to make a flat cake without telling you.” Cel spoke rapidly, even for them. Zolf walked up behind them and peered into the pan, mildly alarmed at the yellow, bubbly mess inside. “Anyway, what did you..? Oh, right! I’m making caffeinated scrambled eggs, which are just eggs with Monster instead of milk, and let me tell you, it’s not going well! I think I used too much Monster, because it’s going so slowly, but I can’t raise the temperature anymore or else I’ll denature all the poor caffeine molecules. Oh, and I need to get some descaler after this because I brewed a cup of coffee with Monster instead of water and now the Keurig is really upset.”

“I- wha- you- what?” Zolf stammered out, trying and failingto keep up with their rapid explanation. Cel whirled around, nearly knocking him in the face with the spatula before he could stagger back.

“I promise, it’ll be good! I did the research! And you don’t have to eat it, I’ll be out of here in.. two minutes? Or seven? Honestly, these eggs are taking forever, but soon, I promise.”

“I.. you.. Look, that’s not what I’m concerned about! I can whip something up for myself easy, but Cel. That’s, that’s not how scrambled eggs work?” Zolf glanced back at the fizzing, half cooked eggs. “They’re not gunna bind together, because you took out the milk. And you should probably drain them, eggs aren’t absorbent and the heat is too low to cook off the soda.”

“Hm. Do you think so?” Cel frowned at the pan, but seemed to quickly make up their mind before Zolf could answer. Carefully, they drained the pan to reveal surprisingly solid looking eggs. “Oh! Zolf! Thank you!”

Zolf sighed as they set the pan back on the burner. Thankfully they set the pan back on the burner instead of trying to eat them immediately. He opened the fridge and scanned the leftovers blankly.

“So, how was your day?” Cel asked. Zolf glanced over to see them spooning the eggs, still a bit of a runny mess, onto a plate.

“It was, uh, fine, I guess.” Zolf rubbed the back of his neck. “Wilde’s aggravating as ever, and was breathing meritocratic bullshit down my neck all day. You?”

“Ah, I’m sorry. I had a good day! We were doing caffeine extraction during labs today, and I think everyone had fun! I couldn’t let them try what we extracted though because we’re going to run some analyses on their caffeine next week to see how well they did, but I did promise to buy them all coffee or tea soon.” Cel took a sip from a coffee mug Zolf hadn’t noticed earlier. 

“Oi, is that your Monster coffee?” Zolf asked, grabbing a random tupperware container from the fridge.

“Yep! Here!” Zolf sniffed and crinkled his nose. The acrid smell of black coffee and hot Monster was what he’d smelled earlier. It burned a little bit, and he decided he wanted nothing to do with it.

“Cel that smells awful. How are you going to sleep tonight? Oh gods, if you wake me up at three in the morning again because you’ve had too much caffeine..” Zolf glowered at them, somewhat playfully, and they grinned and held up their hands.

“I won’t, promise.” They grabbed their plate of suitably cooled eggs. “Ready?”

“I’m not having eggs ruined.”

“Aw, come on! I mess up rice one time..” 

“That was not just messing up rice, that was ruining it for me forever. I don’t even know how you managed to turn rice into mushy oats.” Zolf shot them a half smile and threw his leftovers, baked chicken and vegetables, into the microwave. Cel rolled their eyes and took a bite of the eggs. Zolf watched in amusement as a series of emotions flitted over their face. Confusion, disgust, dismay, confusion again, and maybe hatred.

“Uhm, Zolf?” They asked when they swallowed. “How can a food be both runny and crumbly at the same time?”

Zolf barked out a short laugh. He knew they were going to be awful, but crumbly runny eggs was certainly a new one he hadn’t heard before.

“It tastes like Monster, which I expected? But definitely not quite right, I can still taste a bit of egg. Citrusy egg.” They took another bite and their face screwed back into disgust. “Sweet citrusy egg. Oh it’s awful!”

“Coulda told ya that myself.” Zolf chuckled as he grabbed his food from the microwave. “D’you want real food?”

Cel dumped the plate of eggs in the trash and took a long sip of Monster coffee before answering. “Yes please?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I committed this crime for science and fiction and let me tell you. It. Was. Horrid. What I wrote Does Not do justice to how awful caffeinated scrambled eggs are. -10000/10 will Never do again.
> 
> And thanks to @mullroy for the other crime mentioned in this chapter: awfully overcooked crockpot rice. He's been helping me build quite the crime database.
> 
> If you'd like to suggest some crimes for Cel, Zolf, or anyone else to commit, go for it here or @half-elf-alchemist on tumblr.


	3. Bartending Crimes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cel invents new drinks. Zolf gets to try them. Canon setting, AU story. Basically a what if Zolf and Cel met while Zolf was still a pirate? Thank you @MissSunFlower94 for this chapter's crime!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CWs for a brief description of nausea and lots of alcohol being consumed.
> 
> Kinda crime-y, kinda plot-y. Also played with a different writing style, and not sure how I'm feeling about it yet.

As a self proclaimed sad pirate, Zolf had been to many bars and pubs. He knew what places were good, what places were bad but acceptable, and what places to just avoid entirely. The Mad Alchemist initially fell under “places to avoid entirely”. It was not an establishment Zolf would choose to drink his memories away, with it’s garishly sterile interior and harsh lighting, although the seating was surprisingly comfortable. It had clearly been designed around its name. The owner and bartender, a tall, brown half-elf with their dark hair dyed a painful platinum blonde, seemed to be designed around the name as well. They always wore a long, white lab coat that clinked and rattled when they moved and talked way too quickly for anyone, drunk or sober, to even begin to wrap their head around, but they were incredibly good at mixing up something that would turn your brain to mush at the first sip.

The first time Zolf wandered inside The Mad Alchemist, the bartender smiled a giant, pointed grin, and he was already drunk enough to ask if they might be a shark. They laughed and promised, no, they were a bit sharper than that. A dolphin maybe, they murmured with a little smile that sent Zolf into a dizzy spiral he blamed on the alcohol. The bartender handed him a neon blue drink that was bubbling angrily. “Something to relax you, on the house!” they said, and Zolf didn’t remember anything else after that. 

When he woke up the next day, they were sitting on a barstool next to him, fast asleep. They were the only other person in the bar, and Zolf realized with a start that this strange, sweet elf with the odd accent and even odder choices in decor let him sleep off his hangover in their bar for whatever reason. When the haze from sleep and drinking enough to knock out a dragon wore off, Zolf realized he was supposed to be onboard  _ The Dragon’s Death _ four hours ago, and after leaving a hastily scrawled apology note and a hopefully large enough tip, darted out the door.

The next time his ship stopped in Hiroshima, he went to The Mad Alchemist immediately. The bartender, Celiquillithon Sidebottom, but their friends call them Cel, smiled that sharp, slightly feral grin, said they missed him and promised him a wild night if he was up for it. Again, he barely remembered anything but a blur of dancing bodies and Cel handing him various concoctions that he never quite recalled asking for. They were always good, aside from the fact that they always glowed slightly, or bubbled and overflowed when disturbed, or gave off a hazy, sweet smelling smoke. He was drunker than he’d ever been, feeling like his head was in the clouds, and just like Cel promised, it was a wild night. For the first time in many, many years, Zolf didn’t think about Feryn once.

That morning, when he woke up, he discovered Cel had been prepared. There was an approximation of a bed haphazardly built behind the bar, and Zolf was curled up on it against the wall. Cel was asleep at the bartop again. Zolf sat up slowly, very slowly, expecting the movements and lights to throw him into a dizzy, hangover induced fit, but he felt good. Surprisingly good. He had to leave again, but before he did, he woke Cel up to thank them properly and move them into their own bed. They groggily muttered something about next time, and he shushed them, left his tip, and limped down to the docks.

Zolf’s next six trips to The Mad Alchemist ended almost the exact same way, and he got to know a little more about Cel and their assistant and trainee, Jasper. On somewhat slow nights, they told him about their family, about their adventures through the Americas and Africa, about their lovers and relationship and friends, about their passions and life’s work as an alchemist. He rarely had to ask any questions, because once they got going, it was nearly impossible to reenter the conversation. In return, he told them about his brother, his parents, the Navy ship that nearly killed him, the fickle god who’d saved him, and the pirate crew he was captain of now. Cel asked him many questions, mostly about Poseidon and pirateering, but also about what he wanted to do with his life and where he had traveled and where he wanted to travel. He didn’t have as many answers as he would have liked.

One night, when Zolf was the only patron and Cel had long since sent Jasper home to sleep, they sadly told him about how they ended up in Hiroshima, how they lost their ear, how The Mad Alchemist had been their last ditch effort to stay afloat when no one seemed to need an alchemist, even a genius one such as themself. They also told him that the first time Zolf came in, he’d tipped them in white gold, and they had nearly fallen over in shock. Despite their efforts, he’d refused to take it back, drunkenly mumbling something about how The Mad Alchemist made the best drink and that Cel deserved it. He promptly passed out after buying a round of “their best creation” for everyone in the bar, and Cel didn’t have the heart to kick him out, since he’d just paid for all of their expenses for at least two years. 

Without the pressure of making ends meet, Cel hired Jasper and began spending a lot more time coming up with various drinks. They gave Zolf a drink they’d invented and named after him, the Salty Sea Dwarf. It included their signature potion, a hangover prevention they had invented after dating a paladin of Aphrodite who could cure hangovers with a touch, lots of gin, an ocean’s worth of salt, and a blend of citrus juices that Zolf didn’t recognize. It tasted delicious, of course, and it became one of his favorites to order.

Over a year later, Zolf was still stopping into The Mad Alchemist whenever he could. After a particularly long time at sea, they pulled into Hiroshima’s port early in the afternoon, and Zolf made his way to the bar the second he could. He unlocked the door and took a deep breath as he stepped inside. He didn’t know when the tang of alcohol and chemicals and the undercoat of ozone had become home, but it had. He didn’t know when the overtechnical, overexcitable half-elf had become his best friend, but they had. He was pretty sure he was closer to them than his crew.

“Oi.” He called, and Cel spun around from behind the bar with their signature grin, holding two bottles of bubbling liquid. 

“Mr. Smith! You’re back!” They exclaimed. “How long are you staying?”

“Few days. Maybe a week.” Zolf clambered up onto a barstool slightly too tall for him. “Make anything new?”

“Of course!” Cel’s smile somehow got even wider and mischievous. “Would you like to try my favorite?”

“Sure,” Zolf shrugged. Cel grabbed a shot glass and began mixing something together. “What is it?”

“Aw, c’mon, I never tell you what they are.” Cel said as they grabbed a jar of something suspiciously solid looking and a straw from beneath the bartop. Before he could grumble anything, Jasper popped his head out from the kitchen.

“M-Mr. Smith! It’s good to see you!” Jasper waved and disappeared back into the kitchen just as Cel slid the shot glass in front of Zolf. At first, it looked like a standard Cel drink. It was a cloudy red and bubbled ominously, but swirling in the center was a strange, off-white spiral. It looked a lot like an eel swimming in bloody water, and Zolf wasn’t quite sure how he felt about it.

“This isn’t gonna kill me is it?” Zolf asked suspiciously, picking up the drink carefully.

“Of course not! I wouldn’t dare kill my favorite dwarf!” Zolf raised his eyebrows. Their mischievous smile hadn’t faded, and there was a little sparkle in their eye that truly completed the ‘mad alchemist’ look. “Okay, it’s a little spicy, but it’s good, I promise!”

“Right.” Zolf muttered and tipped the shot back. Unsurprisingly the taste wasn’t too bad, a good amount of sweet and spicy that dulled the powerful taste of alcohol. The texture, however, was horrid. Maybe it was the fact that the swirl looked like a slimy eel, maybe it was the fact that the drink was a disconcerting bloody red, maybe Zolf had just psyched himself up to hating it, but whatever the swirling thing was, it had already started to dissolve a bit when Zolf drank it, and much to his dismay, it fell apart on his tongue. He shuddered and swallowed quickly.

“What in Poseidon’s seven seas is that?”

“I call it the Tapeworm Shot!” Cel said, and Zolf’s stomach twisted painfully. Ten years of sailing in the worst of storms was the only thing that kept him from instantly throwing up. That and the fact that Cel’s little hangover prevention potion included a large dose of antacid. When he mastered his gag reflex, he shot them a stormy glare, though in reality, he wasn’t that mad. Chances were, he could take care of a tapeworm easily, and if not, they certainly had the knowledge to whip up some tapeworm killing potion. “Sorry Zolf, are you alright? Can I-” 

“Cel, I swear to the Pantheon-”

“It wasn’t a real tapeworm, promise!” They pulled out the jar Zolf saw earlier and set it in front of him. “See? It’s mayonnaise! Mayonnaise and this thing called hot sauce, which you make by brining peppers and then.. Well it’s fun and tastes great when you mix it with vodka!”

Zolf sighed. 

“Ah, sorry Zolf,” Cel started but he raised a hand to cut them off.

“Look, I’m not mad. Couldn’t stay mad at ya even if I wanted. Maybe just, never give me a mayonnaise shot again?” He shivered again. “It was a special kind of horrible only you could create.”

Cel smiled, and this time, it was the soft, easy smile that meant they were truly happy, not the wild Mad Alchemist smile they loved to throw around. “I’ll take that as a compliment Mr. Smith. I’ve got some other new ones? Mayonnaise free, of course, if you’d like to try them?”

Zolf smiled back and nodded, and they set to work crafting drinks. Thankfully, none of them were as criminally horrid as the Tapeworm Shot, which Cel insisted on dubbing it. Among them was a pleasantly spicy take on bourbon, a caffeinated shot of rum, and a strange concoction of gin and a diluted haste potion. While he drank, they talked about how life was, how The Mad Alchemist was doing, how Jasper was an amazing mixologist. Jasper was also learning alchemy on the side, and he’d taken Cel to his village a few times so they could help out.

All in all, it was nice. Zolf told them about his last few months at sea, about captaining  _ The Dragon’s Death _ through a horrible storm, the likes of which he’d only seen once before, and barely making it with his ship and crew intact, about how  _ tired  _ he was of the sea, and dare he say it, Poseidon. The capricious god had been turning against him, wracking  _ The Dragon’s Death  _ with storms wherever it sailed, and refusing to listen to his prayers, despite his many sacrifices. Zolf was tired of it all, and though he was young, he was ready to retire. Long since ready.

Cel considered his words for a bit as they poured themself a drink. They cast a strangely unreadable look at the kitchen.

“Would you like some advice? Or, or maybe it’s a suggestion?” Cel frowned. “I’m not sure where it falls actually, because technically I’m asking you a question and maybe you won’t read it as advice or a suggestion, y’know?”

Zolf laughed. “Go for it.”

“What if you came to Okinoshima with me?”

“Wait, what?” 

“I’m closing the Mad Alchemist. I love it here, don’t get me wrong! This place, the people. I met you here. But I love alchemy, and I can help the gnomes there. They’ve been under a lot of stress with the bad storms and the raids, and they can’t really defend themselves. That’s why Jasper came here, to try to get money to send home and help them rebuild. You could help too. If you wanted. No pressure though! It’s going to be a few months, I think, and if you want, you can just stop by the villages instead of Hiroshima and I can still make new drinks!” Cel continued to ramble, but Zolf stopped listening. They were giving him an opportunity to get away from it all, from Poseidon, from the ocean, an opportunity to start a new life. Again. 

How many opportunities had he been given now? Three? It sounded right. Zolf was starting to lose count. He took a moment to weigh his options. Stay with the crew, risking mutinies, storms, foul gods, and Meritocratic rules, or go with Cel somewhere new and try to rebuild himself all over again. The decision was easy. 

“-and you really don’t want to go too far up because there’s problems with the atmosphere and breathing, but if you have the right potions you could-!”

“Cel!” Zolf interrupted their tangent and they froze. “I’ll go with you.”

Cel smiled broadly, and this time it wasn’t soft or fierce. Zolf had never seen such expansive joy on anyone’s face. It was infectious. “Oh my gosh, really? Thank you!”

“Yeah.” Zolf said. “I- thank you Cel.” 

Cel preemptively closed the bar. They all sat down and made plans to move to Okinoshima in three months, and afterwards, Cel let Jasper go home early. After drinking a great deal more, Zolf dragged them to bed, and they fell asleep, both truly happy for the first time in a long, long while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme just casually assert All of my Cel headcanons in here. Also, the fact that mayo has existed since 1756 and NO ONE has been able to make it edible is sad. With that said, I did not try the tapeworm shot because ew. Mayonnaise. I based this off google reviews and how mayonnaise works and.. Well, I can’t say I agree with sweet and spicy? But ah well. This was fun! Thank you again @MissSunFlower94 for the Tapeworm Shot!
> 
> Ofc, if you have any crimes for Cel, Zolf, or anyone else to commit, lemme know here or @half-elf-alchemist on tumblr. Thanks for reading!


	4. Very Unappeeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two new characters enter the world of Food Crimes with a crime against both texture and taste. Set during RQG 107-109, canon adjacent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you @mullroy, I hate and love all your crimes so much. And I'm finally writing our favorite goblin! Woo!

Sasha is still numb. Grizzop is thankfully giving her space, going to patrol the chimera’s cages and letting her sit quietly by the road. It’s slowly, slowly dawning on her that Barret is gone. He’s gone and he can’t hurt her anymore. He’s going to be locked away in a little cell with no one to care about him ever again. Sasha doesn’t want to acknowledge the aching hole in her chest, the loss of.. Not a parental figure, because he was never her parent, but he was important to her. And now she has to come to grips with the fact that he isn’t important. He isn’t worth it.

And that’s it isn’t it? He isn’t worth that ache. He isn’t worth her thoughts or energy. She’s forgiven him. Now it’s time to move on. Sasha’s stomach rumbles angrily and she sighs. It’s going to be a long night. 

It passes slowly, even for Sasha. She’s always enjoyed the shadowy wait, the night always enveloping her in a comforting hug, but tonight’s just hard. As dawn breaks, she can see a cab in the distance, slowly making it’s way up the mountainside, and she tenses, flicking out her daggers. It’s going to be a while before it gets in range, but she takes extra care to duck further into the shadows and keep her daggers from catching the sunlight. Grizzop must hear the cab at some point, because he dashes past her and stands with his bow drawn, ears pinned to the back of his head. Sasha wonders idly if he knows she’s there, if his bow has a draw release that lessens the tension on his arm, if the cab is going to bring yet another fight. She’s tired of fighting. 

It doesn’t. Thankfully. And Grizzop turns to see her standing quietly as the cab leaves and jumps in surprise. “Sasha! Oi!”

“Sorry,” Sasha mutters. She begins to ratchet her daggers back into their sheaths, curses quietly as the spring on her left sheath catches like it always does. She needs to fix it. Her stomach growls again, louder this time. Grizzop gives her an odd look.

“Wanna go look for some food?”

Sasha doesn’t really want to talk, doesn’t really want to think even, so she just nods and follows him down to the buildings. Despite the fact that no one was coming up the mountain aside from the cabbie, she checks behind them anyway. They can’t be too careful. Grizzop darts into the admin building, and after one last look around, she shuts the door behind them. They look around for food, but the only things in the partially destroyed kitchen is a bunch of bananas. Sasha stares at them suspiciously. 

“Want one?” Grizzop asks as he breaks one off the bunch. It’s still mostly yellow, and looks edible enough. Sasha shrugs and grabs the bunch from him, carefully choosing the best looking one. 

“Thanks mate,” Sasha says quietly.

“Welcome!” Grizzop takes a giant bite of his banana. For a moment, she stares at him incredulously. He hadn’t even taken the time to peel his banana, just tore through the skin with his sharp teeth. 

“Er. Y’know you’re supposed to peel it first. Right?” 

“Eh, why waste the time? The peel tastes fine! Try it!” He watches her intensely, nearly vibrating in place with too much energy.

Sasha gives him a long look before staring at her own banana. Even in Other London, where food was never to be wasted, they never ate the peels. It was just how the world worked: bananas get peeled and street kids get shipped off to be part of brain Ceilings. Shaking away that thought, she bites into her banana. Instantly she makes a face and Grizzop bursts out laughing. 

The peel is stringy and tough, and bitter as all get out. It tastes horrid, and she doesn’t even finish taking the bite before deciding the awful bitterness and texture isn’t worth the sweet fruit inside. She gives Grizzop, who’s still laughing uproariously, a sour glare and silently vows to get back at him.

She does, later on, by winning all his arrows during games of cards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, ily guys and I'm so glad you're indulging this fic. It's been a pleasure to write and test *most* of these crimes! 
> 
> Also, this is in present tense, which is Weird for me to write, so if there's something a bit off, I'm sorry!


	5. Candy Cigarettes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hamid thoroughly confuses Sasha with candy cigarettes. Canon adjacent/compliant-ish with RQG2.  
> Thank you @mullroy for reminding me of this idea!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Loving Sasha Hours folks. I love my chaotic enby alchemist, but Sasha Who's Askin won my entire heart in RQG1 and will have it until the end of time.
> 
> CW for a bit of background anxiety throughout the whole chapter and smoking. Dialogue taken and slightly modified from the RQG2 transcript (thank you so much to the person who has been writing those, you make my life so much easier!)

Sasha is still vibrating with nervous adrenaline by the time Zolf decides to fix up “Thompson’s” face. He didn’t need to, honestly, but the way Zolf was looking at him, Sasha thinks he might be doing it as payback, though she can’t figure out why. She slips outside, away from her past, away from the memories and the emotions she doesn’t want to deal with. Her fingers tremble and her breath comes in short bursts as she pulls a pack of cigarettes from her pocket, pulls one out, and lights it. She lets it dangle from her lips, just breathing in the smoke that drifts up from the tip, and takes a moment to calm her shaky nerves. 

The sergeant is leaning against a crate, also smoking and examining the note he’d taken from “Thompson”. She hovers awkwardly behind him, but he doesn’t seem inclined to hand it to her, and she doesn’t know how to ask. The door bangs open and Hamid and the big armored tank of a man walk out, talking about a week for rags, maybe? Sasha isn’t quite sure. Hamid pulls out his own pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his purple leather jacket as they talk. She watches as he pulls one out and puts it between his teeth, then does a double take as he  _ bites _ it and  _ chews _ , all the while continuing to talk amiably.

She pulls her cigarette out of her mouth and stares at it. It doesn’t look edible, nor appealing. But maybe he knows better than her. He’s certainly been in Upper London longer. And besides, the act of smoking is hardly appealing either, but the tobacco is calming and sometimes she just needs to  _ breathe _ , to smoke and let her mind sort itself out without anyone else trying to interfere. Suddenly, there’s a sharp scream from "Thompson" and Sasha jumps. The cigarette falls from her hand, and she numbly stares at the empty finger of her glove. Zolf stomps outside, gruffly talks to Harringay and then leads them all towards a large townhouse. 

The crowd swarms around them, uncomfortably so, and not even clinging to the armored man, Bertus maybe, is protecting Sasha from the onslaught. She does her best to be as unobtrusive as possible, but everyone seems focused on her, congratulating her and praising her. The little anxiety her short smoke had dissipated came back in full force. When they make it to the gates, she’s practically vibrating again. Zolf pulls them aside to tell them something, but she barely hears him over the din of the crowd and the clatter of carriages slowly pushing their way through. 

“-sha, maybe keep an eye out for troublemakers and point them out and, uh, I think that’ll make a pretty good…” Zolf trails off and glances around then back at Sasha with a look of concern she often saw on Eldarion’s face. The look makes her temper flare slightly, but she tamps it down quickly.

“Sure, I can, I can deal with anyone who gets-” She palms a dagger as obviously as possible, and Zolf’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Not really what I mean, and I don’t want to have to patch everybody up who tries to get through. So if you..”

“Right.” Sasha frowns, trying to work out exactly what he wants.

“We’re just keeping the peace, we’re not.. We’re not the guards here.”

“Er, right.” She mutters, and Zolf gives her a half smile before Harringay calls him over. Sasha tries to casually lean against the fence and pulls her cigarettes back out of her pocket as she watches the slightly unruly crowd. The city guards are having a hard time holding them back as the first carriage pulls up, but they’re managing well enough. She pulls out another cigarette, silently curses at her shaky hand, and regards it for a moment. After glancing at Hamid, who is smiling and talking with someone in the crowd, she slowly lifts the cigarette to her mouth and bites down. 

Sasha chews thoughtfully for a minute, feeling her face bunch into a sour scowl as the sharp flavor slowly spreads. She used to think the smoke tasted bad, but actually chewing on the leaves and paper? It’s even worse. After glancing around the crowd, who seem to be busy enough clamoring at the guards and Hamid to be watching her, she leans into a bush and spits the awful thing out. She decides she was using cigarettes correctly after all. Flicking the ruined cigarette into the bush as well, she pulls a fresh one out, the last one, she realizes with a quiet groan, and quickly lights it. Hamid turns just then and catches her eye, flashing her a dazzling smile. She tries to smile back, but all she can think about it is him happily biting into his own cigarette and  _ swallowing  _ it. 

Sasha decides Hamid must be alright, despite his questioning her earlier. After all, only someone with too much on their mind would subject themself to eating a cigarette instead of smoking it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, prologue!Hamid is wearing a nice purple leather jacket with dark green stitching and eats candy cigarettes and nothing will change my mind. He thought it looked cool and suave and y'know what he was right. More Cel shenanigans soon, I promise!


	6. The Coffee Flask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cel commits more caffeine crimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with more caffeine crimes. Consider this to be in the same AU as Monster Eggs. Sorta shippy and fluffy.

Zolf wakes up slowly, nestled comfortably in Cel’s arms. They had fallen asleep watching.. Something he can’t remember now, maybe an action movie? Cel’s chin rests on top of his head, digging in somewhat sharply, but he can’t bring himself to mind. He shuffles slightly and opens one eye. It’s still a bit dark in his room, but he can tell it’s nearly dawn, and the sunlight is beginning to filter in. He closes his eyes as Cel wraps their arms around him tighter. 

“Morning.” Cel rasps, still half asleep. Zolf grunts. He’s not ready to wake up quite yet, content to just enjoy their company. Cel seems to have other plans though. They kiss the top of his head before carefully beginning to slip out from under him, despite his attempts to hang onto them. “Coffee?”

“Sure.” He sighs and sits up long enough for them to get up. 

“Cream and sugar?”

“Too early Cel,” Zolf groans, pulling his blankets up to his chin. They chuckle and pat his shoulder as they leave. He drifts off to sleep again to the sound of coffee brewing and Cel singing quietly.

“Zolf. You awake?”

Zolf cracks one eye open, giving Cel the crankiest glare he can whilst keeping the ability to fall back asleep. They’re holding his mug and their strange flask they use for “chaotic coffee” and watching him amusedly. Grumbling, he pulls the covers back and sits up to take his mug. Cel sits down next to him, and after taking a long sip of his coffee, perfectly made of course, he leans into their side. 

“Thanks.” He murmurs as he takes another sip. 

“Mhm.” They slip an arm around him and, after swirling the flask for a moment, take a careful sip. “Oh. Huh.”

Zolf looks up at them, and finally focuses on their flask. Whatever is mixed in hasn’t dissolved at all, and it smells simultaneously bitter and sweet. He watches as they take another small sip. Their face screws up in displeasure almost immediately, and after swallowing it quickly, they set the flask aside.

“The hell’s that?” Zolf asks, clearing his throat when he realizes his voice is still rough with sleep. 

Cel doesn’t answer for a moment. “So. I decided to try putting gatorade powder in my coffee?”

Zolf sighs again. “Uhm. Why?”

“Look, it’s a great idea in theory! I get rehydrated and caffeinated at the same time! But apparently the Gatorade only dissolves in cold drinks.. Ooh, maybe I can make iced coffee and mix this in..”

“Cel.”

“Yes?”

“That sounds horrible.”

They laugh. “It’s uh.. Yeah, it's quite bad.”

Zolf finishes his own coffee with a shake of his head and leans away to set the mug on the bedside table. He settles himself back into their side, and their hand curls around his shoulder, holding him close. “Glad you’re having fun at least.” 

Cel grins and nudges him lightly. "All the fun."

Zolf pats their hand and closes his eyes. As he drifts back off to sleep, they kiss his temple and pull the blankets up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gatorade Coffee Rating: -100/10. Looked bad, smelled awful, tasted okay, but abominable texture.
> 
> And unfortunately, I'm gonna have to put this and CoTMA on pause for a bit. I've been having a rough time with pain recently, and need a bit of a break. But I'll be back, hopefully in a few weeks.


	7. Great British Bake Off Blasphemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cel commits GBBO blasphemy for Zolf's birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you @coffeecrowns for this prompt! This was going to be a halloween chapter, because I had another idea to add in but honestly? I needed some fluff, so this is as domestic and toothrottingly sweet as I could possibly make it. It's probably so fluffy it's OOC but honestly? Don't care lmao. Same AU as Monster Eggs and Gatorade Coffee. They're both about 45 or so, I don't think I've really mentioned that here yet.

Dump cake recipes are remarkably simple to follow, Cel thinks. Just pour the mix, add the water, oil, and eggs, and put it in the oven. But they’re also.. Simple. Plain. Boring. There’s nothing special about chocolate cake. Nothing fun. Nothing even remotely explosive. And while the emphasis on birthdays gets rather unimportant at their age, they still like to celebrate. Even if Zolf seems to think otherwise.

Cel crouches down in the aisle of the supermarket and looks over each box. Chocolate, vanilla, triple chocolate. Boring, boring, somehow triple boring. “Urgh, if only Zolf hadn’t banned me from.. Gah but that cake was.. Well it did somehow become an omelet so.. Oh and speaking of eggs..” They sigh. “Alright. Eggs, vegetable oil, and water. Don’t cakes need milk? I’m pretty sure they need milk. Powdered milk! That’s not real- well.. Ooh!”

Cel quickly makes their way over to the row of fridges containing coffee creamer, still mumbling to themself. “Okay, okay, Zolf likes vanilla, uh chocolate, uhm.. Mint? Does he like mint? He likes mint garnish so.. Okay! There’s french vanilla, hazelnut, caramel, oh caramel might be nice. Ew butter pecan. Why would anyone want to drink butter pecan coffee?” They make a face at the creamer and move on to the next one, a garishly colored red and green bottle, and gasp. “Peppermint mocha! Perfect!”

~~***~~

Zolf is happy. Cel’s been texting him sweet little messages all day, and Carter had snuck him a jar of his infamous moonshine, much to Barnes and Wilde’s dismay. It wasn’t even a busy day, so Wilde let him go early. He knows Cel has something planned, hopefully something small, but knowing them, it probably won’t be. As long as they’re with him though, he’s fine with whatever celebration shenanigans they want.

He opens the front door to the smell of warm chocolate. Quietly, he slides out of his shoes and hangs his coat up before walking into the kitchen, keeping one hand behind his back.

“..you still not baked? Is it not.. Did I put too much in? No, I couldn’t have.. Is it not hot enough? Maybe.. But it could burn.” Cel’s crouched down in front of the oven, scowling at whatever chocolatey goodness is baking inside. 

“Hey.”

  
“Zolf!” Cel jumps up, smiling widely. “You’re home! Early! Wait, is everything alright? You didn’t get fired, right?”

“No,” He chuckles. “Everything’s fine. Here.” He holds out a bunch of white roses. “It’s a bit early for those camellia’s you like but uh, I wanted to say thanks.”

“Oh! They’re beautiful. Do- wait thank me? For what?” 

“You’ve been.. You’ve been real good to me. For me. And I just wanted to uh, remind you I guess? That I love you.” He pauses, ignoring the blush crawling across his cheeks, to laugh at their own slightly dumbfounded expression. “Shouldn’t be that much of a surprise.” He teases gently.

“No! No, it’s just, it’s sweet. You don’t- well, no you are very sweet and I love you too but you don’t show it as, ah, overtly as this? Not often anyway and also people don’t give gifts on their birthday usually, it’s-” He leans up and cuts them off with a kiss.

“Well I should. And I have. And Carter also gave me-” The timer on the oven starts blaring, making him jump. “Oh! Cake’s done?”

“Almost certainly not.” Cel sighs. They open the oven and stick a fork into the cake. It comes back covered in half baked batter. Zolf crouches down next to them to look at it. “Okay, that’s better. It was completely wet last time.”

“How long’s it been in for?”

“Hm. An hour? Yeah that sounds right.” Cel smiles sheepishly at Zolf’s raised eyebrow. “Okay, so I might have added something to the recipe, but it definitely shouldn’t have affected the bake time this much. I could probably do with raising the heat, but I didn’t want to burn it so..”

“What did you add? And how much of it?”

“Oh well, you see I eyeballed it? Sort of poured until it smelled right? And then I tasted it and it still wasn’t minty enough so I poured a bit more.. So.. maybe 3 cups of peppermint mocha creamer?”

Zolf’s jaw drops open, and all he can do is laugh. “Oh gods. Cel that’s gonna add like three hours! And that’s still not a guarantee it cooks all the way through.”

“Oh. Are you sure?”

“Yup. Sorry.” He squeezes their hand. “I appreciate it though. Really.”

Cel sighs and leans against him. “I wasn’t trying to ruin the cake.”

“Hey. I know.” Zolf ruffles their hair. “The only thing you’ve ever ruined is rice.”

“Hey!” Cel mock glares at him before they sigh again. “So, I think I sorta expected something would go wrong because it is me baking, and I did buy a second box of cake mix. It’ll just be chocolate, but we can make that?”

Zolf stands with a grunt. “Course. And uh, I think I can remedy the mint thing too.”

Cel’s eyes light up, and they jump to their feet excitedly and start gathering ingredients, rambling about something. Zolf just watches them for a moment with a soft smile. 

“Zolf?” 

“Huh?” Cel’s looking down at him and smirking, and he realizes he’s still sitting in front of the oven. “Oh. Uh, hi.”

“Mhm. Glad I can still knock you speechless Mr. Smith.” He tries to find something to say, but comes up blank, which only fuels their ego. 

“Alright, alright. Enough. Yes, you still knock me speechless, you happy?” He grumbles and stands.

“Oh, very.” They reply. “Anyway, what was your idea for mint?”

“Peppermints melt, and when they do, it’ll infuse the cake real nice.” 

“Oh! That sounds so much easier than creamer.” 

Zolf hums and digs through the pantry for mints. He hears the oven open, and turns to see Cel taking the first cake out. 

“It does look sorta edible, don’t you think? Should we try it before we make another one?”

“I can’t stop you, but if it’s still raw, it’ll give you an awful stomachache.”

“Aw. Fine.” They whine. After setting the pan aside, they start hand-mixing together the ingredients for the batter. Zolf sits, in a chair this time, and just watches them whisk. They’re so focused on it that they don’t tease, but he can see their little smirk. It only takes a couple minutes before the mix is nicely blended and is ready to pour into the new pan. Silently, Zolf stands, and together, they start adding the peppermints, keeping them in nice even rows. 

When they’re done, Cel glances over and starts laughing. “You’ve got batter on your nose. Here.” They hand him a napkin, respecting his dignity enough to not wipe it off for him. When it’s gone, they lean over and kiss him on the nose.

“Yeah, yeah. Love you too.” He grumbles. “Right, it’s gonna take, what, 40 minutes to bake? Give or take? And Carter gave me some of his moonshine, so..” 

Cel grins. “I like the way you think!”

~~***~~

A few hours later, full on cake (including a bite each of the half raw attempt) and a little drunk on moonshine, Cel sits up. They’ve been lying in bed and pretending to watch a movie, just enjoying each other’s company.

“Zolf? I know you don’t really like celebrating but thank you for allowing me to.. To do this.”

“Hey. I’ve never said- well, okay I said once I don’t like celebrating, but that was before I had a reason to like it.” Zolf taps their nose. “And yes, you’re my reason you dork.”

“Aw, you do love me.” Cel leans in so their foreheads are touching. “I love you too. Happy birthday, Z.” They whisper, and he pulls them down into a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean, I think dump cakes are probably blasphemous to GBBO in general, but this one in particular? Mary and Paul would have had my head. Fun fact: the creamer completely baked off and it was very sad. Didn't even get a hint of mint.
> 
> Anyway, thank you again @coffeecrowns! This was horrible to tastetest and I made so much cake (most of it genuinely inedible) but! Very fun! I'm actually starting to run out of ideas again for this fic, so if anyone has any suggestions? I'll try just about anything once. Send 'em here or on tumblr.


	8. Efficient Grilled Cheese

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a bit short, but honestly, that fits the theme on this one. Modern AU, ship or platonic.

Zolf was sitting in the kitchen drinking a cup of tea and reading  _ When Passions Collide  _ again when Grizzop ran in. 

“Hey, sorry I just need to make something to eat and then I gotta run!” He said. “Didn’t realize what time it was.”

“You’re fine?” Zolf replied, a bit confused. “Where you going?”

Grizzop flashed him a smile and pulled bread, two slices of cheese, and butter from the fridge. “The range. Sasha’s already there, I was supposed to meet her at 6.” 

Zolf grunted and went back to reading, ignoring the clatter until he heard the microwave open. He glanced up and watched, slightly horrified, as Grizzop haphazardly spread half frozen butter on two toasted pieces of bread, slapped the cheese on, and threw it in the microwave. Fifteen seconds later, he pulled it out, closed the sandwich, and shoved half of it in his mouth. 

“Oi, what’d you make?” Zolf asked hesitantly. 

“Grilled cheese! Duh.” Grizzop mumbled around the sandwich. 

“In the microwave?” He grimaced. Sounded  _ horrible. _

“Yeah! It’s efficient!” Grizzop glared at him. “Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it. Not all grilled cheese has to be fancy sharp cheddar and sourdough.”

“Pass, thanks.” Zolf deadpanned. Grizzop shrugged. 

“Your loss, mate. Anyway, gotta go. I’ll be back by eight, yeah?” He gave Zolf a quick hug before running off to grab his bow. Having learned from experience, Zolf decided to forgo trying grilled cheese Grizzop’s way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh, a lot of my crimes are born from housesitting and being uncomfy using other peoples kitchen things. I promise I don't live solely on college grade food crimes lmao
> 
> As always, I am taking food crime requests here or @quinnoid on tumblr!


End file.
